Community Service
by LittleMissStarkidGirl
Summary: Kurt has to serve 24 hours community service after beating up Karofsky in the locker room after he kissed him. This leads to Kurt meeting someone special that will change his life forever.
1. Solitary Tables

_Hey! It's Bethany Here, the writer of this fanfiction :) This is very loosely based on Kurt and Blaine's relationship, but it still works... i think... anyway, enjoy and feel free to tweet me with a response! littlemsstarkid._

_Rights belong to Ryan Murphy and glee on fox._

* * *

><p>Kurt handed his documents over the counter to the woman who was sitting behind her desk eating a ham and mustard sandwich with her feet kicked up on top of the desk. As soon as she saw Kurt she pulled her feet down, placed her sandwich back in her bag, and took the document from him, smearing mustard all across it. She stamped the empty page with today's date and handed it back to him. Kurt took it back with a snigger, and placed it back in his bag that was hanging from his shoulder.<p>

Kurt couldn't believe that they'd made him do community service, at the homeless shelter of all places. After all, it was Karofsky that had started it... Just because Kurt was gay it didn't mean boys could go around kissing him against his ill. Karofsky needed to know that. That's why Kurt had beaten him up. He was fed up of the whole school thinking that Kurt had no balls, he had to show them, all of them that they couldn't just mess with him and get away with it, and 24 hours of community service and a broken nose wouldn't stop him reaching his goal. He would be the bad ass person at McKinley soon enough.

Kurt walked through the small community hall toward the kitchen that was placed right at the back. There was already 3 people there, they all looked significantly older than him though, in their mid 20's early 30's. Kurt didn't care, he would only have to do 12 Sunday afternoons here and he would never have to see any of these people ever again.

'Right, you must be Kurt Hummel' The middle aged woman behind the serving counter approached Kurt and handed him an apron and a netted hat. If this woman thought he would ruin his hair so that the homless people's meals wouldn't get ruined she was sadly mistaken.

'I'm not wearing this, lady.' Kurt held the hat back out toward her, although the woman didn't take it, she just walked back behind the counter.

'Well then you'll have some time added to your service for every meal you serve without it, and believe me, we get through hundreds a day.' Kurt begrudgingly placed the hat carefully over his specifically sculptured hair. _Ah well, they wouldn't know a bad hair day from a good one here anyway _Kurt thought to himself as he tied the apron around his neck and walked toward the counter.

There was only about 30 people in the hall, 3 around each table, apart from one in the far corner. A boy sat on his own in an old black coat. He only looked about 16, and he held the tea tightly in his hands, frightened for any of the precious heat to escape from his fingers.

As Kurt absent mindedly dished out the muck that was being served to the masses that were flooding in, he ignored the smell and disgust of the people in front of him, and focused on the boy. Kurt didn't feel sorry for homeless people. after all, it was self inflicted. You only became homeless if you refuse to work, or if you gamble all your money away right, but he couldn't help feeling some sort of pity toward this boy. He wasn't old enough to work or gamble, so it couldn't have been self inflicted could it?

'That's Blaine Anderson' The woman whispered into Kurt's ear. 'He doesn't talk to anyone, no-one knows what happened to him, all we know is that he comes in here every day the same time wearing the exact same clothes and drinks the same tea. We've all tried talking to him but he just won't speak. Sad isn't it, such a waste of a life' The woman went back to pouring tea and left Kurt trying to figure out a way to get him to talk.

Blaine sat there for a about half an hour just holding the cup, not drinking it, just holding it. After he felt that all the warmth had gone from the cup he drank it in one. Leaving only the dregs behind. He stood up and placed the polystyrene cup into the bin behind him. He took a few small slow steps toward the serving counter and joined the back of a queue of about 15. Kurt kept dishing out the muck but his eyes didn't move from Blaine. Blaine kept his eyes focused on his boots.

Kurt took a quick glance toward the clock on the wall. 12:30. he'd been here half an hour. Funny. It seemed to have flown. Within a few minutes Blaine was at the front of the queue and he stood directly opposite Kurt.

'Hi, I'm Kurt' He smiled, scooping the food onto Blaine's plate. For the first time since entering the line he lifted his head, and his eyes locked with Kurt's. Blaine's eyes were hollow and cold, and so full of pain that Kurt couldn't bear to look at them any longer. Kurt looked toward the food on Blaine's plate. 'Good food here, I've never seen such well presented slop in my life' Kurt let out a small giggle hoping that Blaine would join in. He didn't, although he did let losses a small smile, before moving on to the woman to get his second cup of tea that day.

As he left to sit back down at his solitary table, the woman came back toward Kurt and for the first time he caught sight of her name tag. It read 'Annette'. 'You do realise' she whispered again into Kurt's ear 'that that is the first time he's ever eaten something here before.'

Kurt raised his eyebrows and looked at Annette. 'What's that supposed to mean?' He added with an aggressive shrug. He couldn't be seen to let his guard down.

'Well... That's not the only first that's happened today... I just thought that they might be connected in some way...' Annette winked toward Kurt and as she walked away and Kurt carried on serving the food that was making him more and more sick by each serving he wondered whether he was the reason Blaine had come up to the counter. He let loose a small smile and continued to watch Blaine eating his food one small spoonful at a time.

Maybe Kurt could get something good out of this community service after all.


	2. Empty Cans and Frazzled Brains

Before Kurt knew it the clock ticked to 2 o clock, and Annette came over to tell him that the centre was about to close. Kurt hadn't felt the time go by, to be honest, he hadn't really felt anything except a strange bond toward that young boy at the bak of the hall.

The bell rang to signal that serving time was over, and all of the people Kurt had served came over toward him and handed him their plates. Before he knew it, he had a pile of at least 20 building up, and he felt that it would surely fall, he just hoped that someone would help him when they did.

He started walking toward the sink, and as the plates were piled high he couldn't see where his feet were treading. He surely didn't see the patch of wet tile that was a metre away from his feet. He carried on walking, trying to peek a glance at the direction he was headed either side of the plates.

Blaine, seeing that Kurt was already struggling with the pile he had, headed toward the sink. He didn't want him to drop them, on his first day.

Kurt was only a few steps away from the sink when his heel caught the edge of the wet patch, and his leg kicked out in front of him, sending him flying on his back. Kurt felt himself falling, closing his eyes willing for the pain to come now so he could get it over with. But it didn't dome. Blaine dropped his plate into the sink with such speed you could have missed it with a blink, and dived to where Kurt was falling, placing his arms under the spot where Kurt's back would have hit the floor.

Kurt felt the soft cushioning of Blaine coat beneath him, and saw his hollow eyes staring into his as he opened them realising that Blaine had saved him.

As soon as Blaine realised that Kurt had landed, he removed his arms from behind Kurt's neck, standing back up and straightening his coat before walking swiftly out of the centre, and back onto the street.

Kurt watched him pass by the window without a glance inside, leaving him speechless and in shock.

'That's the first time someone's ever stopped me from getting hurt' Kurt spoke, mostly to himself even though he knew the kitchen was filled with people checking he was okay. Annette held her hand out to him helping him up of the floor. The back of Kurt's jacket was soaking wet. 'Ah shit! This was brand new!' Kurt took off the netted hat that had been on his head, and ruffled his hair as tom prevent a kink. He un-tied the knot at the back of his apron and handed it to Annette.

'That could have been a lot worse you know' she whispered in his ear as the crowd filed away slowly. 'You could have easily broken your back. How about next time, instead of complaining that your new jacket got wet, you could thank the boy who saved your spine before he runs away.

Annette handed Kurt his bag, and Kurt took it, flushing red. He ran out of the kitchen rummaging through his bag for the document he'd handed over earlier. The woman was no longer eating, she was now asleep. Kurt coughed loudly to try and wake her. The woman jumped up off her chair, and took the paper that Kurt was holding out to her. She stamped it red with today's date, and wrote the letter 2 next to it.

_12 more Sundays _Kurt thought to himself, holding his head high, walking out of the building.

* * *

><p>'Hey Dad, Carole, I'm home!' Kurt shouted as soon as he pushed the door open to his house. The house was dark, and there was no sign of life. Kurt shouted just to check that they wouldn't be in some compromising position in the house that Kurt could just walk into.<p>

When Kurt didn't get an answer he placed his bag down on the table by the door and headed into the living room clapping his hands to switch on the light. He grabbed a diet coke from the fridge, and threw himself on the sofa, turning on the TV to watch Ugly Betty re-runs. Try as he might though he couldn't drop the image of Blaine as he looked over him from his mind. He looked so helpless, yet he look so protective of Kurt. What could it mean? After all, he's only just met him, why did he have such a strong urge to protect him?

Kurt slapped himself hard across the face. He'd been here before, with Finn. He couldn't let himself fall for someone he could never have. He and Blaine were worlds apart, he could tell by there clothes, and even if it did turn out that they were more alike that he imagined, the chances of Blaine being gay were slim to none. None of the boys Kurt found himself attracted to were. But the boys that Kurt found himself least attracted to, were. i.e Karofsky...

Deciding that he couldn't concentrate on the tv as much as he wanted to, he hopped up again, and went over to th phone to call Rachel.

He dialled the number easily into the phone. He'd typed it so many times he didn't need to look it up. Rachel answered on the third beep.

'Hey Kurt What's up? Oh! You had your community service tonight right? How was it?' Rachel's voice seemed like the same high pitched excitable Rachel, although there was a slight tremor of nervousness there. Was that since the whole broken nose thing or did she just not want to talk to him.

'Yeah, Rach can I ask you something?'

'Rachel, come on put the phone down and get back into bed I'm not done yet.' Kurt heard Finn's husky voice whispering on the other side of the line. So that's where he was. 'Finn! Honestly! I'm on the phone to Kurt!' Rachel whispered back, obviously unaware that Kurt could hear them. 'Kurt yup, what's up?'

'Nothing Rachel, it's obvious you don't have time for me any more. I won't bother you again.' Kurt hung up the phone not knowing whether he was angry or hurt at the fact that she was in bed with Finn while he was having a mental breakdown. Well sort of. He faught the urge to phone her back, to apologize, but if he was going to maintain this badboy image he needed to maintain it with everyone. Even Rachel. _It'll be worth it in the __end._ he thought to himself, trying to convince himself that it would get better.

Kurt finished his can of coke and threw it into the bi that stood by the fridge. He threw on his Marc Jacobs coat and headed back out of the door along the pavement, trying to calm his thoughts down.


	3. A History Lesson

Blaine sat on the street corner, clutching his coat tight around his skinny frame. The gentle wind was blowing his hair across his face, and his frail hand tried to push it back. The cold air had turned his nose a bright shade of red, and his lips were beginning to turn blue. Blaine was used to this though; he'd lived on the rough pavements for nearly a year now, ever since his Dad came back. He used to wander around the streets aimlessly, hoping that someone would take pity on him and hand him a dollar or two. That was until he met James.

* * *

><p>It was a couple of months after he'd left home, and Blaine was sitting on a bus stop somewhere in the middle of the city, trying to get some sleep, when all of a sudden a man in his early twenties came up to him and threw a bottle of water over him.<p>

'Hey! Man! What was that for? Can't you see I'm trying to get some sleep here?' Blaine shouted, jumping off the bench and getting up on to his feet, running his hands down his front, examining the damage. Not much done. It was mostly his face that was wet.

'Sorry _man_, but this is my bench, if you can find a stop that's not already taken I'll gladly give you the rest of this bottle.' To Blaine's surprise, the mystery man spoke with a thick English accent. Blaine was just admiring the way he'd pronounced 'bottle' when he stepped into the light of the shelter and Blaine saw that he too was wearing an old rugged coat. His face was mostly covered by a scarf but Blaine could just make out a pair of bright blue eyes peeping through. His hair was a light brown colour and although it was mostly hidden by a large beanie hat his curls were prominent. Blaine caught himself staring still dazed from being drenched.

'S-Sorry. I didn't realise it was assigned seating' Blaine added with a slight scowl toward the man that stood in front of him. He picked his blanket up from the bench and shoved it under his arm, turning to leave.

'Wait!' a voice called from behind him. Blaine turned around, and saw the man taking the scarf off his face, letting it fall around his shoulders. He wiped his hand across his jacket and held it out for Blaine to take. He stared at it, unsure what to do. Slowly Blaine dropped his blanket to the floor and took the man's hand. He shook it and Blaine felt his hand was warm under his, even though it was rough. 'I'm sorry I shouted, it's just that I've had a really, really long day.' Blaine nodded, still not saying anything. 'I'm James' he said, removing his hand from Blaine's clasp.

'Blaine' he replied.

'Look mate' James continued 'I didn't mean to snap.'

Blaine stayed silent and James shuffled his feet. He didn't know why he was staying so silent. Embarrassment? Anger?

'Fine, look I can tell you're new to this, so I'll make you a deal, you can sleep here tonight, I know another place I can stay, but tomorrow you find somewhere else, yeah? I don't want to make your night any worse than it already is.' James smiled and placed a hand on Blaine's shoulder, and without meaning to, Blaine burst out crying, holding his hands up to his face trying to hide the tears that were now streaming down his face.

'Hey, hey, chin up' James laughed, pulling Blaine closer to him. Blaine felt his heat radiating through his bodY. James felt Blaine's almost skeleton like body against his and he pulled away, holding on to Blaine's arms. 'No offence, but when was the last time you ate?'

Blaine shrugged and replied in nothing more than a hoarse whisper 'I don't know… two, three weeks ago?'

James' mouth opened in shock and Blaine's face flushed red. He didn't realise how hard this was going to be. No-one can realise.

'Well that just won't do. Look, how about this, tomorrow I'll meet you here in the morning and I'll show you how things work around here, where to get food, where to get shelter, water. I can't have someone as good looking as you wasting away in front of me can I?'

Blaine blushed again and James playfully punched him in the shoulder. 'Well I'll leave you sleep , and just so you know, if you give the shelter a good hit, the light knocks out, so don't do that' James laughed and turned to walk away, throwing his scarf back around his neck.

'Thank you' Blaine shouted after him. James turned around and winked at him. That was the first person that had helped him since he left home. It gave him a small ray of hope as he settled under his blanket on the bench, and closed his eyes with the promise of a meal and shelter tomorrow in the back of his mind.

* * *

><p>James showed Blaine all the spots to get food. There were the bins outside of the supermarkets that tossed away any food that had ripped packaging, and meat that was merely hours passed its use by date. There was nothing wrong with it, and it infuriated Blaine, but at the same, he wouldn't have a mean if they kept it in the shop. In the day Blaine saw James' face a lot clearer. His hat was off and his scarf was in his bag. His face was thin, but not starving and the angles of his face stood out prominently. Blaine found himself casually admiring them.<p>

That afternoon James took Blaine to what he called 'The wanderer's rescue', a small café central of Ohio that served hot tea and coffee and a meal free to the homeless. Although Blaine appreciated the effort that went in to making all the food, now that he'd found all the good food that went to waste in the bins, a bowl of hot slop didn't really appeal to him.

Weeks passed and James and Blaine were adjoined at the hip. They'd even found a new spot to sleep so that they could stay together, it was a small corner in behind a hairdressers. The vent from the shop led to just above them so there was a constant flow of hot air. It was perfect. Now that he was getting enough food inside of him his face was beginning to pad out and James could see the colour returning to his face. This was a welcomed sight, he liked Blaine, he was innocent and sweet, everything he wasn't. It was fun being around him.

Soon enough James started to realise how much he liked Blaine. How much he _really_ liked him. Within a matter of weeks James had stopped seeing him as the weak boy who he felt obliged to look after, to an independent young man that was really, _really_ hot. He knew Blaine was gay. He could sense it. He could feel him staring at him sometimes. He wouldn't speak about why he left home, but James felt sure that it was something to do with that.

James sat watching him one afternoon, he was eating a bag of pretzels in their normal sleeping place, and as he crammed them quickly into his mouth a crumb caught in the corner of his mouth.

'Blaine' he called, laughing at how quickly he was shoving them down his throat. 'You have a little bit…' James trailed off and Blaine felt around the edge of his mouth with his tongue, feeling for the lost crumb.

'Gone?' Blaine asked, putting the bag down on the floor for a second.

'Nope, here let me.' James leant forward and kissed the spot where the crumb was. Blaine's mouth tasted salty and warm. James pulled away, keeping eye contact with him. Blaine's eyes were dazed and confused, but as soon as the shock had passed he leaned back over toward James, feeling his mouth press desperately against his. James lowered himself on top of him, pressing his body hard against Blaine's. The bag of pretzels lay discarded on the floor.

* * *

><p>A few weeks later, Blaine was waiting outside the wanderer's rescue. James was getting Blaine a hot cup of tea, he's promised to take him to the park today, on a proper date so today's tea would have to be a take away.<p>

James had offered to go inside and get a drink for him, but he'd been gone a while, and Blaine's fingers were getting cold. He needed something hot to hold on to, like his tea, or James' hand. After 5 minutes Blaine decided that he'd go inside, at least it was warmer in there anyway. He walked through the front door, swinging it shut behind him, and as he walked past Helen at the front desk he caught sight of James through the window to the cafeteria. He was talking to a young boy behind the serving counter. He was tall, and his hair was swept up in a quiff. Blaine was just about to walk in and help him with the drinks when he saw James bend over and brush his lips lightly against the boy's. He'd run out without any explanation. And he hadn't thought twice about it until a few weeks ago.

It was hard living on your own, especially on the street, and he missed James. He missed his sense of humour, he missed his heat, and he missed the sweet kisses at the end of each day, telling him that everything was okay. That was when Blaine decided that he needed to find him again. He decided that the best way to do so was to go back to the wanderer's rescue. He would go there every day, if there was even the slightest chance that he would find him again it had to be worth it, right?

But Blaine hadn't found James. He'd found this new angel that had been placed in front of him. He was gorgeous, and he felt for him what James had told him he'd felt. An urge to look after him, to make sure he was okay. He couldn't explain it, it was just there.

Blaine settled himself under his blanket, and started nibbling into a cheese sandwich that he'd salvaged from the bins earlier that day. His heart as well as his stomach filling with hope for what tomorrow would bring.


	4. Scattered China

The soft click of Kurt's boots against the concrete pavement echoed along the walls of the abandoned alleyway. Kurt felt himself pulling his coat tighter around him, stopping any heat from escaping his body. He had no idea of the time; only the light of the full moon against the dark starry black sky told him that it must be past 11. He felt lost among the streets that he'd known since he was a young boy, no idea what he was looking for, no idea where he was headed, only a great sense of gravity pulling him in this direction. As the road ahead of him became thinner, and the streetlights became few and far between, Kurt stopped walking and pressed his head against a brick wall to his left, tracing the graffiti upon it with his index finger. His eyes were closing slowly, and each blink was longer than the last. With an overwhelming feeling of fatigue Kurt turned his back toward the wall and fell to the ground and, with one final rustle of his hair, he let his head drop and he fell asleep.

Blaine sat against the trunk of an old oak tree in Maplewood Park, he had a can of Strongbow in one hand and two blades of grass in the other. He sat humming to himself, his head rocking back and forth against the trunk of the tree to a melody that only he could hear. His hand lifted the can slowly to his mouth and he shook it quickly before draining the can of its dregs, and throwing it skilfully into the nearest bin.

His eyes were closed, but he lifted his other hand to his mouth, blowing gently into the blades of grass, and a sweet whistle escaped. He formed a soft, sweet melody of 4 notes repeating over and over, the haunting melody standing out in the dead silence of all that was around him.

Blaine was snapped out of his daydream by the soft sound of clicking heels against the pavement. His eyes rolled gently as he opened his eyes and saw a silhouetted figure in the distance walking along past the park. The figure stopped and leaned against the wall. No-one ever stopped here; this was merely a passing place. The figure fell to the floor and Blaine watched as their head dropped against the wall and the faint light of the streetlamp highlighted his face.

It was his angel. His sweet, clumsy, beautiful angel was walking through his town. Filled with love, intrigue and alcohol, Blaine pulled himself up from the ground, holding onto the tree for support until his eyes adjusted. He took small, winding steps toward the young man that was falling asleep opposite him.

Blaine held his blanket in his arms, wrapping it around himself as he crossed the road toward Kurt. Blaine placed his hand against the wall, steadying himself as he leaned down to check that it really was his angel. Seeing the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the perfectly styled hair confirmed it for Blaine. He took the blanket from his shoulders and placed it across the sleeping beauty, making sure all of him was covered, apart from his face.

Blaine thought about sitting next to him and falling asleep with him, but he figured that any ideas that seemed good after 5 cans of cider weren't going to seem that good the following morning. He was sure that Kurt wouldn't appreciate waking up in a strange place with a strange man next to him, stinking of alcohol and of god knows what else. Blaine pressed his face against the wall, taking a few deep breaths of crisp night air before walking back to his spot in the park.

Blaine watched as Kurt wriggled around under the blanket, pulling it up closer to his face, his boots scraping against the floor. He felt his eyes get heavier and soon enough he'd fallen asleep, his head against the tree, and his hand against his heart.

Blaine was awoken the following morning by a ray of sun streaming through the leaves above him onto his face. As his eyes opened, the drumming inside his head started and his eyes automatically shut, shielding his sensitive eyes from the bright glare of the sun. He stood up, holding the tree as his joints defrosted allowing him to walk again. With a deep breath he opened his eyes again, and his head burned, but he staggered forward, hugging the coat against his body.

As his eyes began to clear he made out a shape against the wall opposite him. Rubbing his eyes he focused again and made out the pile that was his blanket crumpled on the floor on the sidewalk opposite him. Dazed and confused Blaine tried to piece together how his blanket had got there, but he couldn't remember past emptying his third can of cider.

Picking up his blanket he staggered along the sidewalk, holding his free hand to his head and wincing at any loud noises that he came across on his way to the wanderer's rescue for a much needed cup of coffee.

Blaine opened the door to the café, swinging it shut quietly behind him. Suzie was sat behind the desk and she gave a sly smile as she saw him walk in.

'Long night?' She asked with a wink

Blaine just smiled and walked into the café thanking the lord that the doors stayed permanently open. It was empty for a Monday morning. The usuals were there of course Bill with his balaclava, Tony with his Labrador, Phil with his radio and Dylan with his porn magazines.

Blaine took his place at his usual table and picked up the newspaper that Annette laid out for him every morning. This morning's front page read 'American homeless numbers reach all time high'. Blaine tutted and turned the page. He didn't need to read about it, he was living it.

As he became engrossed in an article about a local man who was entered in American Idol, Blaine's head burst at the sound of a plate crashing to the ground.

'KURT!' Annette shouted. 'Twice in a row? If you're gonna keep this up you're gonna have to pay for each plate you drop!'

'Sorry' Kurt murmured, his face reddening as he dropped to his knees, picking up all the pieces of scattered China across the floor. Blaine wanted to help him, but his head stopped him from standing up. So instead he just watched as he struggled with the china, trying not to cut himself.

Annette saw Blaine staring and she gave him a small smile, gesturing to the coffee machine next to her. Blaine nodded, and stood up slowly, heading toward the serving counter. Just as he reached the volunteer serving Kurt's face popped up, and their eyes locked for a moment. Blaine's mouth opened to say something, but he found himself speechless again, so instead he just closed his mouth and pointed to the bacon that was being served in front of him. Kurt smiled. 'Sandwich or roll?'

Blaine swallowed hard.

'Sand-sandwich please' he replied, struggling slightly to get the words out. Kurt placed the bacon on top of a slice of bread and, with a shaking hand, he passed the plate to Blaine. As Blaine focused on Kurt's face he saw that there was a smudge of dirt under his nose. Kurt turned away and Blaine swiftly moved on to get his coffee from Annette, who winked as she handed it to him. He blushed and returned to his seat, still watching the boy with the bacon.


	5. Fragrant thanks

Blaine sat in the corner of the canteen, watching Kurt handle the bacon from afar. It had been a few hours since he'd had his sandwich, and he was now on his third cup of tea. He was careful to keep the newspaper in front of him, and turned the page every few minutes, so it didn't look like he was staring.

The room was clearing slowly, and soon enough there were only three people left sitting at the tables. After a few minutes, those people cleared, and it was just Blaine, his cup of tea and the kitchen staff.

He looked down at his cup. There wasn't much left. He downed the remains and closed his eyes as he felt the last bits of warmth push down his throat and into his stomach.

Looking up toward the counter he could see Annette collecting the plates from various tables, and Kurt was clearing the leftover bacon from the trays, and sneaking a bite when Annette wasn't looking.

Blaine lifted the newspaper, and made sure to peek over the top, so as they didn't see him staring. Annette must have gathered that he was though because she had a sly smile on her face when he caught her looking at him.

After another few minutes, Blaine closed his paper and got out of his seat, grabbing his bag from the floor, and pushing his seat back under his desk, waving a shy goodbye to Annette as he left. He pushed the door open, and it squeaked, causing Kurt to look up from what he was doing.

Kurt saw him leaving and dropped his tea-towel on the nearest surface, following him out of the door.

'Hey' he almost shouted, urging Blaine to wait. 'Hey, it's Blaine, right?' He asked. Blaine nodded as an answer and Kurt smiled. 'It's weird, but I'm sure I saw you last night…' He added, raising an eyebrow. 'I was sitting on some street, falling asleep, and someone came over and put a blanket over me, and when I opened my eyes, I'm sure I saw you…'

Blaine stayed silent, not knowing whether to be please he's acknowledged him, or whether to be angry that he didn't thank him last night. Saying that, he wouldn't have been able to remember anyway…

'Y-Yes' Blaine stuttered. 'I-It was me. Y-you just l-looked a bit c-c-cold' He almost spat the words out. Why was he this nervous?

'Well thank you' Kurt smirked. 'I don't even remember what happened, or how I got there, but I think I would have frozen to death if you hadn't have done it, so yeah. Thanks' Blaine just stared blankly back in response, a ghost of a smile etched across his almost translucent lips. Kurt laughed at his loss for words.

'Look, it's getting cold out now, seeing as it's nearing winter, so, would you like to go and get a coffee sometime?' Kurt asked, shuffling his feet softly.

'I g-get coffee here…' Blaine answered confused. What was he suggesting?

'No, I mean a proper coffee! Like a Starbucks or something, not this shit that they serve here' He laughed softly, and his lips thinned into a smile.

'Umm… I don't think I could afford-'

'Oh don't be stupid!' Kurt interrupted 'I'll pay you moron! It wouldn't be much of a thank you if I made you pay for yourself!' He punched Blaine playfully on the shoulder, and Blaine flinched. Kurt's smile disappeared from his face, and he withdrew his hand back to lay next to him.

'I have to volunteer tomorrow, from 10-2, seeing as I have a day off school, but we could go out after that. Maybe get something to eat as well?' Kurt asked, taking a small step backwards toward the canteen.

'Sure' Blaine smiled, but his eyes were still empty. He adjusted the strap on his bag, and turned around, carrying on walking toward his park.

…

Kurt stepped back inside the building, to many a wink and suggestive smile from Annette.

'So…?' She hinted, still drying the plate she had in her hand.

'It was nothing, he did me a favour, so I promised to buy him a coffee. That's all' Kurt bent his head toward the ground, finding a sudden interest in his shoelaces.

'That's what they all say' she responded. 'If it makes you feel any better, you could do a lot worse than dear Blaine. He's a sweetheart, even if he is a bit shy.'

Kurt looked up at Annette, taking a wet plate in his hand, and grabbing his cloth again. 'Annette, do we know anything about Blaine's history?' Kurt raised an eyebrow, but kept his focus on the plate, not keen on showing too much interest.

'Nope, nothing. Why?'

'Well… It's just that I went to punch him on the shoulder earlier, in a friendly way, you know, and he nearly shat himself.'

'Well aren't you sensitive!' She exclaimed, laughing at his common expression.

'He did! All of the light left his eyes, and he nearly started crying.' Kurt looked up at her, his eyes widening.

'I don't know, Kurt. But just be sensitive with him. He's not a toy, he's fragile. One wrong word and who knows what could happen.'

Kurt sniggered as he continued to dry the plates, a look of deep thought of his face.

…

'Hi' Kurt almost whispered as Blaine came up to get his bowl of porridge the next morning.

'Hi' Blaine smiled, taking the bowl. Kurt's finger's brushed his, and a flush of red reached his cheeks. He turned away quickly, and headed back to his table, setting his bag under his seat, and tucked into his breakfast.

It was 12 o clock. Only 2 more hours until they were going on their date. Could it be classed as a date? Or did Blaine just think he was feeling sorry for him? Either way, he didn't seem too eager this morning.

Kurt spent the next two hours clearing tables, serving muck, and watching Blaine. He sat there, drinking coffee after coffee and 'reading' the newspaper, though Kurt could tell that he was looking at Kurt as much as Kurt was looking at him

The two hours soon passed, and again, Blaine was the only one left in the hall. The clock ticket to 2 o'clock. Annette winked at him from her spot by the sink, and nudged her head toward the door, encouraging him to leave with Blaine.

Kurt shook his head, pointing at the dished that were piling up next to him, but Annette glared, and coughed loudly, making Blaine look up toward Kurt. Their eyes locked in contact, and they both smiled meekly at each other.

Giving in to sheer awkwardness, Kurt put down his plate, untied his apron, put on his coat and walked over to him. He put down the newspaper and looked up at him, with those empty hazel eyes.

'Ready?' He asked, pointing to the door.

'Yeah.' Blaine answered with a small smile, picking up his bag, and pushing his chair back under the desk.

Both of them headed out of the door, keeping a safe distance between them, and crossed the road toward the coffee shop together.


End file.
